Kind of a Drinking Game
by Porkchop Sandwiches
Summary: "Elena, don't tell me you've never thought about it." Damon's voice was soft, fingers dancing on the side of his glass. She had. They all had. Damon/Elena/Stefan. Set during "Know Thy Enemy," and a little AU.
1. Katharine

**A/N: This story is a little bit weird. It's set during "Know Thy Enemy" before Katharine is taken to Klaus and before Klaus possesses Alaric. The scene mentioned in the very beginning is really from the episode and then it changes from there with the time-line being drawn out. This chapter focuses on Katharine's reaction, but further ones will be Damon, Stefan, and Elena. OK, I think that makes sense. Read on and please review!**

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><p>Katharine never liked secrets, or at least when she wasn't the one keeping them. And she didn't care if anyone accused the pot of calling the kettle black, because she was a 700 year old vampire, and she'd probably snap their neck before they finished talking about that household appliance. Although, a teakettle of vervain would have been nice to have when Damon gave her that little smirk of his, eyes dancing in that arrogant way, being so unlike the 1864 Damon she tricked into loving her. Turning sure made people think they were bad asses. Again, she ignored that kettle saying; the cliché was almost as dead as she was.<p>

But, she guessed she wasn't exactly all dead, because she was alive-ish after all. She had all of her five senses, and her sight was extra cautious after that silence in the parlor of the boarding house when she asked Damon, Stefan, and Elena if they knew anything she didn't. They'd given her silence, and Damon had smiled with that stupid eye thing.

So, she was kind of stalking the house that night, tuning her ears to pick up anything that sounded even remotely suspicious. Nothing. She tried the next night only to get the same. It wasn't that they weren't talking, because they were, all three of them, together. And it made her wonder what 1864 could have been like if she had played nice with both brothers in a more Elena-fashion. It sounded more boring than that whole being trapped in a cave thing. But, it didn't prevent the queasiness in her gut when she saw the three of them getting along so well. Katharine didn't dwell on it, because she didn't really have a gut, and she didn't really care what the hell Elena liked to do with her time or with whom. Or at least she thought she didn't.

A whole week passed with no out of the ordinary mentions of witches, vampires, werewolves, lions, tigers, or bears. Oh my, she was getting as grumpy as the Wicked Witch of the West. She tried feeding on more of those blood bags in the cellar, but it wasn't helping, and Stefan and Damon were continuously insinuating that they wanted her gone. She thought they should have known her better than to rely on subtle things like insinuating. To get rid of Katerina Petrova, you needed more than a nudge. You needed a stake.

It was a Thursday night when she reached the two week mark, and she was more than pissed as she finished off her third blood bag down in the cellar. With her canines encased in plastic, she wondered how dinner had gone for Stefan, Elena, and Damon. During her shower earlier that afternoon, she'd heard snippets of "letting loose," "having fun," and "The Grill." Katharine was pretty sure they'd gotten home a few hours ago, but wasn't sure where exactly they were in the manor. She left the drained containers on the floor, walking up the stairs at a slow human speed. She was four steps from the top when she heard Damon laughing. It was coming from the parlor.

"Damon," Stefan said.

She could hear hesitance in his voice, almost fear. It sounded like a lead.

"Stefan." It was Damon, confident as usual. There was a strong smell of alcohol, probably scotch.

"Stefan?" Elena seemed almost as hesitant. "I think…."

"Shh," Damon whispered.

She could hear him walk across the room. In a flash she was silently at the top of the stairs, far enough to not be noticed but close enough to see. The three of them were sitting on one of the couches with Elena in the middle. A book was on her lap, and she wearing a black, knee-length skirt. Elena's blouse looked dressier than normal. Apparently dinner had gone well. And the after-dinner drinks looked to be in full swing. She was holding an empty shot glass. Stefan was holding one too, except his was full. Damon was sitting with his back to Katharine and the armrest, looking at the two of them intently. Or as intently as he could in the state he appeared to be in, must be in. There was an empty bottle of liquor on the floor, and another halfway gone. Elena was swaying back and forth a little, and Stefan's brooding forehead lines didn't seem so pronounced.

"Damon?" Elena said. She hesitated, hiccupped.

It made Damon laugh, and Katharine could have sworn she saw Stefan smiling. Then Stefan knocked back his drink.

Elena ran a hand through the entire length of her hair, cleared her throat, and lifted her glass to Damon. "I like it," she said. Her voice was confident, definite, almost as if she were talking about something more serious than scotch.

Stefan was downing a refill. He wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist, staring at the rug. "I can tolerate it."

"Hell…yeah," Damon drawled out. Katharine knew he was smirking, even from the back of his head.

Then there was silence. Katharine could see Stefan's eyes shift between Damon and Elena.

Damon thrummed the fingers of his right hand against the arm rest. He lifted his face, chin out. "Stefan, after you."

"How generous." There was a combination of a wince and a sneer in Stefan's expression. He shifted closer to Elena.

Elena's swaying had morphed into more of a shaking motion, but she didn't move when Stefan touched her cheek. They were like that for a few seconds, just staring at each other while Damon cocked his head to the side, probably rolling his eyes.

Then Stefan leaned forward, kissing Elena on the mouth. She didn't seem too responsive initially, but Katharine knew from personal experience that it wouldn't last long. It was Stefan after all, the man with lips to lie for. And Elena soon had her fingers in his hair, as his were unfastening the first few buttons of her top, gently pushing some of the material aside.

The second her shoulder was bare, Damon was coming closer. Damon undid another button. He seemed to be breathing on her ear, because Katharine was sure she would have heard if he was saying anything. Dipping down, he pecked her shoulder. He hovered. Then Elena reached out with her other arm to pull his face forward. It appeared to be what he was waiting for, because he immediately kissed her open-lipped on the neck. And even with the tip of her tongue in Stefan's mouth, Katharine could hear her try for more air. Damon widened his mouth, kissing deeper. Elena moaned.

Katharine gritted her teeth. She wished she could have claimed something like this, but having both brothers had been enough. Elena was enjoying the Salvatores in the most delicious, gut agitating, plural sense. That…little…bitch.

The fist Katharine was making almost had her nails breaking the skin of her palm. Watching the two of them maneuver Elena out of her shirt without really looking, lips still engaged, didn't exactly help. Her white bra seemed to scream at Katharine. The lace was so clean-looking against the tanner shade of her skin, which Damon appeared to be devouring. He was making a trail down to her stomach before kissing his way back up to her cheek. While Elena's left hand was still entwined in Damon's thick head of hair, her right leg was wrapped around Stefan with her bare calf pressed into jeans.

Damon skimmed his mouth along Elena's jaw and nudged Stefan with his elbow. Stefan didn't appear to notice, moving only to slide his hand down Elena's back. Damon nudged him again, this time in the ribs. When there was no response, Katharine could see Damon pondering, his gaze on the ceiling. His eyes narrowed, he paused, he shrugged, he smirked. Clearing his throat, he lowered his head to be level with Stefan and Elena. He leaned closer to them, slowly, until he was inches from where their lips met. Without hesitation, Damon latched on to Stefan's neck using just the tip of his human teeth.

Katharine stifled a gasp, cupping her face. She told herself her lugs felt weak because this was weird, not because she was chocking on some sort of sick, twisted jealousy.

Stefan yanked back, breathing as hard as Katharine wanted to. "Damon, what are you doing?"

Damon grinned. "Closing the last chain in the three way, of course."

"What?" Stefan's forehead wrinkle crinkled on his forehead. Damon raised his eyebrows slightly, and Stefan shook his head, almost hiding a smile. "I would need more to drink…a lot more to drink."

Damon looked offended. "What? I'm not handsome enough yet?"

Elena giggled. She hiccupped, then giggled again.

Damon chuckled. "Look at that, got her to laugh."

"Not that hard right now," Stefan said, barely smiling.

"Stefan," Elena whispered. "Stefan, I want to tell you something." She sounded giddy…and really drunk.

The Salvatores seemed to exchange wary glances. Stefan appeared to be signaling something to his brother with those brooding eyebrows of his.

"Fine, I won't listen," Damon said. He covered his ears, muttering to himself. "You guys suck at three ways, keeping secrets, whispering, hogging the girl…."

Katherine was so wrapped up in listening to Damon, she didn't even think of her mistake until she noticed Stefan hesitantly nodding. Elena pecked his forehead.

Damon dropped his hands, his face looking sour. "How romantic…and gross, and…"

Elena placed her finger on his mouth. Damon was quiet. Elena moved her hand to trace the neckline of his t-shirt before gliding her palms down his chest. Damon's eyes looked like they were melting. Elena grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled up. Damon helped her with the rest, tugging it off completely shutting his eyes when she kissed his collarbone.

Katharine closed her eyes, just for a second, and when she opened them again, Damon and Elena were kissing. She didn't know why, but it was too much. Katharine looked to read Stefan's expression, but he was too hunched, face shadowed, hand creeping up Elena's outer thigh.

She walked straight into the living room with heavy human footsteps. The three of them froze, shocked to see her, and she tried to think of something spiteful to say. There had to be something blood curdling, foreboding, hell, she would settle for bitchy. But, all that came out was a sharp, frustrated shout.

It was her way of saying goodbye.


	2. Damon

**A/N: Thank you so much for Blue-Kool-Aid's and Andiely's reviews! This chapter fills in the backstory of chapter one and focuses on Damon's thoughts. Each chapter is going to be from someone else's mind. Please read and review :)**

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><p>Damon drank scotch at ten in the morning, never locked doors, and liked to say snarky things when he felt like it, which was pretty much all the time. He didn't like having his ex-girlfriend trying to listen in on his conversations, or read civilly next to him in the parlor, or drape herself over him in bed with a face he now connected more with Elena than her selfish ancestor. If he was Stefan, he might have tried to question when he started thinking Katharine looked like Elena, when it wasn't worded the other way inside his head, when he wanted to kiss Elena not because she reminded him of an ancient vampire who bit him in her four post canopy bed while wearing a corset and claimed she loved him, but only because she was Elena. He wasn't Stefan. He was Damon. He needed to think of a plan to get Katharine out.<p>

"We need to piss her off." He was sitting on Elena's bed, slouched against the headboard with her teddy bear in his lap.

The manor was as good as bugged, so all serious discussions had been moved to within the four walls of Elena's room. Stefan was sitting next to Damon, body slightly turned to the window. Elena was at the foot of the bed, chin on her knee.

Stefan straightened his posture, because he apparently didn't look serious enough. "We need to do something drastic."

"Let's kill her," Damon said. If he was going to be called a sociopath, he might as well brainstorm like one. He even prided himself for the way he could make his brother roll his eyes. "What? It would be drastic."

Stefan scratched the back of his neck in a way that let Damon know he was anxious. "Yeah, and knock down a lot of dominoes that we really shouldn't touch right now. I was thinking of something a little less permanent."

"How about we shoot her up with enough wooden bullets, call up teen wolf, and have him drag her into the woods for a moonlit dinner?" It was supposed to be a joke, but neither Mr. nor Mrs. Serious seemed to be in the mood for sarcasm. He tried for outright vulgar. "We could always have a ménage à trois right in the parlor for Katharine to see."

"A what?" Elena shifted her ponytail to the side, looking to Stefan.

"It's French for a threesome." Stefan seemed to be giving her one of his apologetic looks, like his face was trying to tell her to just ignore Damon. He hated when Stefan did that.

Damon glared at Stefan. "Try not to be so condescending all the time."

Stefan stared back.

"Can," Elena said, her voice shaky, "Can I ask you guys a question?"

She was the only one who could prevent a fight between the two of them. They both turned to her. Damon could tell she was uncomfortable, a nervous smile flitting in the corner of her mouth as she eyed her comforter.

"Did you…did the three of you…were you ever together…you know, like all together?" She faced Stefan again.

He looked to the ceiling, almost as if the question stung. "Ask the one she didn't compel."

"No," Damon said. He kept his answer short, because he liked where Elena was going.

She absentmindedly pinched the skin on the top of her foot. "What if we…pretended to? I mean, it would probably hit a nerve, right? Seeing me with the two of you? We could go through some of the motions, have her watch, and she'd probably leave before anything major happened."

"That's insane," Stefan said.

"But, it would work." Elena sounded so determined; Damon could feel her words in his stomach.

Stefan stood up, sighing. "But…."

"If you go through with it, I'll leave Elena alone." Damon didn't enjoy what he was saying, but it seemed necessary. And if he was going to have to watch his brother probably spend the rest of his life with the woman he loved, he might as well try for a free pass at first base.

"Promise?" Stefan crossed his arms over his chest.

"Sure," he said. His tone had enough finality in it to seem sincere without having to lower himself into saying something mushy. Instead of dwelling on anything serious like losing even the chance of being with Elena, he smirked. "I'll even get you liquored up beforehand."

"I might need a little too." Elena took her teddy bear from his lap.

And it was the playful smile on her face that got Damon through a week of Stefan asking if Elena was sure this is what she wanted to do, and questioning his sincerity in keeping his end of the bargain so often that Damon jokingly pinky swore on it. It was what he was picturing in his head as they pretended to get along in the boarding house, thinking how nice it would be if it was real.

The night that everything seemed to be in place, they had one of their many fake conversations, this one near the quest bathroom where they knew Katharine was showering. They made up something about letting loose and heading to The Grill, which was true. Elena even dressed up for the occasion, and it made him feel sloppy in his black t-shirt. He was worried Stefan might change his mind in the time it would take him to change, so they went to straight to The Grill for some greasy food and a few pre-party drinks. It worried Damon when Elena drank as much as his undead brother. But, she only assured him over her third cocktail that her tolerance was nothing to fret over. He didn't want to be contradicting her before what they were planning, so he didn't mention how he had to steady her as she picked a pool cue from the wall, Stefan busy buying a bottle of scotch at the bar. Thirty minutes later it was a little harder to ignore.

Damon was washing Kahlúa off his arm after some chick spilled it on him. He left the men's room to pass the women's, glass of bourbon in hand, when someone pulled him inside. Elena locked the door behind him and ran the sink. With the water on, she braced herself against the porcelain, back to him.

"Any particular reason you dragged me into the ladies room?"

"Shh, not so loud, I don't want him hearing any of this," she spoke slowly.

He walked close enough to see his reflection in the mirror, whispering in her hair, "Okay."

She turned around, and he noticed how she didn't back away from him, even with him being so close. "This is probably really stupid, but…but, you and I've never really done anything before, and I don't want to choke up in front of Katharine…and I thought, I thought…." She seemed to sneer at herself, not making eye contact.

"What, are you having second thoughts?" It came out harsher than he intended. "Elena, don't tell me you've never thought about it." Damon's voice was soft, fingers dancing on the side of his glass.

She raised her face to him. "Kiss me."

He did. He held her, kissing her right on the mouth, loving the noise she made when she breathed against him. She didn't sound anything like Katharine. Then they were against the wall, and he was seriously considering making this a twosome.

She was the one to stop him as she grabbed his wrist and pushed. "That's enough," she said, flushed, still touching him.

And the feel of her hand on his skin reminded him he was going to need a lot of restraint for the rest of the evening. Unlike his company, he'd been nursing the same drink the whole night. He wasn't even working a buzz.

But, it was what needed to be done. He was the one to drive them home. Mystic Falls was a small town, meaning small town cops liked to patrol those dimming evening hours, just hunting for someone swerving in a lane or missing a stop sign. So, he drove. The two of them were in the back seat, Elena caressing Stefan's arm in a soothing way that Damon wouldn't admit looked kind of cute, while Stefan downed the rest of his scotch. The second he started to turn the key to park in the driveway, Stefan put a hand on his shoulder.

"Keep it running," Stefan said.

Damon cocked an eyebrow in the rearview mirror. "Are we having a warm-up round in the car?"

Stefan ignored him. "There needs to be a safe word."

It pleased Damon when Elena looked a little taken aback. He couldn't tell if it was because this was real for her now, or maybe she'd made the obvious connection that this wasn't his brother's first time in a threesome. Damon wasn't absolutely sure, but there had been a dark-Stefan period with harems of half-dead female blood bags. And when you're serially ramming your teeth in people's throats, polygamous sex kind of pales in comparison. Regardless, a safe word seemed a little extreme.

"Stefan, are you planning on punching me or something? This isn't S & M, and no one's getting out of their pants. I think a simple no, that's enough, I'm done will do. You can even throw some Italian at me if you want." He shut off the car and stepped out without waiting for a response, because he couldn't wait anymore.

Once they got out, he slung an arm over each of them. Elena looked ahead. Stefan didn't pull away. Damon took it as a victory. He even found their nervousness slightly adorable, herding them through the front door like trembling sheep. It was a silent walk to the parlor, the only communication being a slight nod from Damon indicating he could hear Katharine in the cellar. When they finally got there, Elena switched a few lamps on before she practically sank into the couch.

Damon ran a hand through his hair, feeling weirdly anxious. "Music?" There was no response. Stefan looked stony and very introspective next to him, which of course meant he needed to lighten up…like immediately. He reassuringly grabbed Stefan's arm. "Just think of it as a drinking game."

He collected a few shot glasses and the same brand of Scotch Stefan was enjoying earlier. He poured one for himself and Stefan. He was surprised when Elena asked for one too.

"Umm…that may not be a good idea," he said. It felt way too weird being the responsible one.

"Damon, I'm fine." Elena reached to him, still sitting.

"She's fine," Stefan said. He gave Elena his own glass, and poured one for himself.

Damon raised his drink. "To getting to know each other better."

Predictably no one else joined in on the toast.

Damon just rolled his eyes. "Who wants another round?"

That got two yeses. And two yeses dribbled into over an hour of more drinking. Damon was seriously shocked Elena wasn't passed out with the way she was doing shots, because this had reached a point that even their stint in Georgia didn't come close to.

"I'm cutting you off after this one, Miss Gilbert," he said.

Elena smiled, throwing it back to have half end up leaking from her mouth. She wiped it away sheepishly. Damon laughed. And that's when they could hear Katharine coming up the stairs.

"Damon," Stefan said.

It was a warning he didn't need, so he mocked him. "Stefan."

"Stefan?" Elena spoke cautiously. "I think…."

It was too late for that kind of out loud thinking. "Shh," he whispered. He walked leisurely walked across the carpet to sit next to Elena, turned sideways so his back was against the armrest, grinning when he heard Katharine reach the top step.

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><p><strong>AN: Again, please review! **


	3. Stefan

**A/N: I want to first thank everyone for their reviews! I'm sorry to disappoint, but this chapter (which you could probably see from the title name) is Stefan's chapter. Elena is next. Please read and review :)**

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><p>Stefan didn't want to be known as the stick-in-the-mud Salvatore brother. Yeah, he might not be as charismatic or sarcastic as Damon. But, he also wasn't as impulsive, irresponsible, and just outright negligent as Mr. Lady's Man could be. When Damon brought up all of this, he didn't take it lightly. Thinking it over, foreseeing possible consequences, and balancing the pros and cons was a week long process. Sure, he wanted Katharine out of the boarding house as much as Damon did. He just wasn't going to set a fire, so to speak, to get rid of her. Saying they were playing with matches would have been an understatement. They were basking in flames that looked awfully familiar to a certain 1864 episode, which was still lingering with smoke. However, after being the straight-laced nice guy for so long, he kind of missed fire. Maybe a little heat would be okay.<p>

He could feel a lot of heat in his chest, sitting in the parlor. And it wasn't from the alcohol, because he actually wasn't _that_ drunk. He would rate himself at a three on a scale from one to ten, with one being sober and ten being, well, like that night out with Bon Jovi and Lexi. He wasn't completely ready to admit it, but the burning sensation flickering inside of him felt remarkably similar to excitement.

"Damon?" Elena said.

The wary tone of her voice could have described his current dilemma, which was how to exactly start this thing. He was staring at the full shot of scotch in his hand when Elena hiccupped, and he smiled because he thought it was a cute way for her to make Katharine think she _was _at a seven or eight on that scale he'd been thinking about. Just as Damon started to laugh, he swigged down his drink. He then poured himself what would probably be his final one of the night.

Watching Elena pass a hand through her hair was relaxing, made this feel a little more normal. Then she squared on one of her serious faces that he liked to think she got from him, and raised her glass to Damon. "I like it."

From what he could tell, it was Elena's way of striking that match. He played along, inhaling alcohol as if he needed it, drying his mouth with his wrist. "I can tolerate it," he said. He even broodingly focused on the carpet for dramatic effect.

"Hell…yeah," Damon said. Damon was wearing that smirk that women seemed to love, and Stefan knew Elena wasn't exactly immune to either.

Of course she wasn't immune to it. If she was, he honestly didn't think they would be in this position. And the word position had some interesting images floating in his mind, because while Elena had said they wouldn't have enough time for anything "major" to happen, he knew, well, he knew vampire time worked a little differently. There had also been a couple, a few, similar situations in his past when he was still trying out those new teeth of his. But, those had been primarily for feeding, and they held no fond memories at all, and he'd blocked out most of it anyway.

He could hear the soft pat of Damon's fingers on the l back of the leather couch. "Stefan, after you."

Damon's words held a warped semblance of the manors they grew up with, and it took a lot for him not to marvel at how well Damon could push Katharine's buttons. He mustered up a conflicted facial expression. "How generous."

He shifted one cushion closer to Elena. She was shaking a little more than he'd noticed before, so he barely touched her cheek, looking in her eyes with enough concentration to compel her. That wasn't his intention at all. He was just easing her nerves, ignoring the bomb of testosterone on the opposite end of the couch who was rolling his eyes like a sexually frustrated high school punk.

When Elena showed that ghost of a smile, the small one they used to communicate across rooms, he knew it was okay to kiss her. It started out slow. He let her get used to having two voyeurs present, feeling pretty accomplished when she dug her fingertips in his scalp. It gave him the courage to start unfastening the top few buttons of her blouse. Mid-action, he got an idea and peeled back the material from her shoulder to give Damon something to work with. So, maybe those blood orgies hadn't been completely bleached from his brain.

There was immediate movement and some pressure that he could feel on Elena's other side. His hearing could even pick up the wet, suction sound of Damon's mouth on her skin. He didn't need to be a vampire to listen to that moan of hers, her tongue in his mouth. Even above that he could detect the sound of bones scratching as Katharine gritted her teeth. This seemed to be working.

He wasn't sure how, but the desire to remove Elena's top played out like some creepy synchronized swimming move. She appeared to have gotten some sun since the last time he'd seen her in this state, and it slightly unnerved him to realize they hadn't been together in that way since this whole idea started. He forgot it once he could feel Damon's actions again, and he tried to distract himself by thinking of Elena's leg hooked around him.

That method was pretty effective until Damon prodded him with an elbow. He ignored it, gliding a hand to Elena's lower back. There was a sting of pain to his ribs, but then Damon was apparently giving it up. There was barely enough time to gloat when he could sense Damon lingering in close proximity to his face. Then Damon was right on him, softly biting his neck, and he _knew_ there needed to be a safe word.

He jerked back from both mouths attached to him, breathing laboriously. "Damon, what are you doing?"

Damon played the snarky card again. "Closing the last chain in the three way, of course."

"What?" This instance of pondering was genuine, because even with 163 years under his belt, he'd need another fifty…sixty…never for that kind of experimenting. He watched Damon's eyebrows rise, and he read it as a sign Damon was just playing around, not harboring the things Katharine seemed to be quietly gasping over. Shaking his head, he barely withheld a smirk. "I would need more to drink…a lot more to drink."

There was faux-hurt on Damon's face. "What? I'm not handsome enough yet?"

Elena giggled, then hiccupped to only giggle again, which wasn't like her. Stefan hadn't seen her drunk that often, because Elena didn't really drink that much, but her irregular breaths reminded of all those shots she'd done.

His brother chuckled. "Look at that, got her to laugh."

Was it wrong that he found it kind of cute? "Not that hard right now." He was fighting off another smile.

"Stefan," Elena whispered. She sounded like an excited child stage-whispering…or someone who'd had a little too much to drink. "Stefan, I want to tell you something."

He met Damon's eyes to swap a look of concern. One of the good things about having a brother for over a hundred years is that body language becomes a secondary means of communication. This look was acknowledging that they'd probably given Elena more alcohol than necessary. It was a fire they'd have to deal with later. In any case, he thought it was fair to give whatever Elena had to say some privacy. He was giving Damon a strong signal to plug his ears.

Damon begrudgingly did so, grumbling something to himself, as Elena placed her lips close enough to Stefan's ear to lick it. "I think we should let him in more." She hesitated, bringing her mouth even nearer so that her tongue actually was touching his earlobe. "Please."

He didn't exactly enjoy was he was doing, but he slowly nodded. She briefly kissed him on the forehead.

Damon removed his hands, looking somewhat repulsed or maybe just a little envious. "How romantic…and gross, and…."

Elena set her finger on Damon's mouth, shutting him up, before playing with the neckline of his t-shirt. Her hands moved heavily down Damon's chest. Stefan was internally holding in his own chest, ready to fake away the jealousy he was expecting to bubble up like regurgitating vervain.

It didn't. In fact, the sensation he was feeling was more of a downward one, which seemed to increase when he watched her kiss Damon right below the neck and then his mouth. It was what made him want to dip closer to Elena, and caress the length of her outer thigh, just above her skirt.

That was when he heard the firm stomp of high-heeled boots on the hardwood flooring. He seemed to stop at almost the exact moment they did, mock-gawking at an extremely pissed off Katharine. She froze in an angered position, seething, until she let out a scream that made her sound like the spoiled little girl she was. And just like a brat, she marched up the stairs to come back down with a suitcase, not even glancing in their general direction before she slammed the door behind her.

"She's gone," Damon said. Damon appeared to be completely at ease. "Elena, now we can tell Stefan told you so." Damon pivoted his body to turn to Stefan, seemingly forgetting the way certain parts of him were aligned with Elena.

Elena tightened her mouth closed. "Mmmhmm." There was this discomfort in her expression, like she was holding her breath.

"You okay?" Stefan said.

Damon winced. "I'm not. Stefan, you're stepping on my foot." Damon jerked his leg away, which only knocked Stefan's balance, making him brace harder on her thigh.

Elena opened her mouth, closed her eyes, and let out a deep moan.

He didn't need any body language to know what Damon then understood, because it was literally under their noses. Scents weren't on his radar when Katharine had been there, but her absence made Elena's even stronger. Elena was, to put it delicately, a little more than excited.

Elena's left hand gripped Damon's bicep while the right pulled Stefan in by the collar. He wasn't expecting it, so a lot of his weight rammed into her. Her cheeks were read, eyes still shut, clinging to both of them as she moaned again.

He looked to his brother in desperation, even as those flames started licking his insides. "Damon," he said. He hoped Damon knew he was asking for help.

Damon looked only momentarily amazed. He smirked. "I think you should do that again." And Damon just needed to move a little to start that chain all over again.

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><p><strong>AN: Like I said before, next is Elena. And I'm going to warn you now that it will probably be a high T rating, but not go into M territory. The next update isn't going to be posted as soon as the lasts ones have, but I'll try to get it up ASAP. Reviews would be awesome!**


	4. Elena

**A/N: Sorry for taking forever to finish this, but it is finished now, and I want to thank everyone again for your amazing reviews! This chapter is short, but it was the only way I could think to end it. Please read and review!**

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><p>Elena liked to think of herself as rational. Well, she liked to think of herself as someone who was mostly rational and might tend to be affected by what others said, like really affected. When Caroline flippantly asked Elena why she was at the 1950s dance with both Salvatore brothers, making one of her inappropriate Caroline-jokes about a threesome, Elena had felt like she'd swallowed her punch cup whole. And the fragments of plastic were scrapping her insides as she tried to fall asleep that night. The last thing she thought about before closing her eyes was an image of Damon and Stefan climbing inside her window. It was about a week later when she started fantasizing about both of them as she brushed her teeth, secretly hoping Damon would slide in behind them as she showered with Stefan at the boarding house, comparing herself to Katharine whenever she was awake. Damon opening the door with that French phrase flicked this little light on inside her head. It bathed an idea she'd been having in a glow that made her continue with his suggestion, and follow through with the plan. Drinking liquor until she was completely plastered was not part of the plan. Making out with Damon in The Grill wasn't either. The two were kind of connected.<p>

Elena, after getting a good level of tipsy, didn't think slightly drunk was going to cut it once she was groping Damon against the bathroom wall. It wasn't that she felt guilty for doing _that _with _him_. The acid reflux-like shame in her stomach was from not being honest about it with Stefan. It made her feel like Katharine. The shots were supposed to kill the guilt, but even when Katharine stormed out of the boarding house, Elena could still feel it in her gut. It wasn't the only thing she could feel in her gut.

"Stefan," she sighed. One of her hands was full of Damon's bicep while the other was clamped around the cloth of Stefan's collar. Both of them were practically plastered to her, not budging in the slightest. She wasn't sure if they were afraid of where this was going, but she knew she wanted it to go as far as possible. And she understood, even with the alcohol coating her insides, she needed to open her eyes and say something sensible.

When she managed to open her eyes, still gasping, legs spread indecently, quivering all over, the first thing she noticed in the dark parlor of the boarding house was the look on Stefan's face. Underneath his expression of concern, she could tell he wanted this too. They all did.

"Stefan," she said. She hesitated to breathe again. From her peripheral vision, she could see Damon wince. She didn't want him thinking he was being ignored, although he might consider it a better option compared with what she wanted to say. "I kissed Damon."

It was almost as if the clouding of lust literally cleared from his pupils. "I know," Stefan whispered. He didn't sound angry.

Damon smirked a little. "Elena, I think he was there."

"No, I mean before, earlier, at The Grill. I…"

"I know," Stefan said.

"But…"

"Running water from a sink and a closed door aren't exactly the best vampire earplugs." He was smiling. "I heard everything, you were nervous…it's okay."

She could almost taste the words before they were on her tongue. "I love him." She bit the inside of her mouth. "I love both of you." She was a few blinks away from crying. "I am so sorry."

Damon's face was blank. "Don't be." The muscle of his arm felt tense in her hand, almost as if he were bracing himself.

Stefan glanced at him. "He's right."

Damon blinked. "Excuse me?" She would have said it if he didn't.

"I don't think you need to be sorry." There was this calm over him that Elena had never seen before, and it was a little unsettling. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think this could work."

Elena was speechless, watching Damon's neck practically snap in the direction of his brother. "I'm sorry, but did someone replace you with a wax statue that says awesome things?"

"Seriously," Elena said in a hush. And with one word it wasn't as serious anymore for any of them.

Stefan chuckled, Damon laughed, and she even allowed herself to smile. She watched as Stefan leaned closer to Damon and whisper something in his ear, mutter something only a vampire could hear. Just like a weird game of telephone, Damon dipped closer to her to apparently pass whatever it was along. He was so close, she could feel stubble on her cheek. "Close your eyes."

She focused on the stubble as she could sense being moved faster than she could say anything. Then there were sheets against her mostly bare back.

"Okay," Damon said.

It was hardly a surprise to find she was in Damon's room. She was lying in the middle of his bed, between Damon and Stefan, who were both hovering over her. It felt strangely normal. But, she didn't want to make any assumptions about something like this. With the shred of sobriety lingering in her system, she looked to both of them. "Should we talk about this a little more?"

"Tomorrow," Damon said. It was impulsive, quick, and came with a stroke of his hand down her thigh.

Stefan slowly slid the bra strap from her shoulder, kissing the uncovered section on her skin. "Sounds good to me."

"Okay," she said, gasping.

It was the last thing she heard before the metal noise of the zipper on her skirt. Then it felt like there were more hands than she could count. She loved it, because they were all together, and it felt right. It was finally real.

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><p><strong>Review :)<strong>


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